


Felix Fraldarius Does Not Like Dogs

by Esselle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Time Skip, rated T for Felix's language and Sylvain's Sylvain-ness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: "What areyoulooking at?" he snaps.His traveling companion lets out a high-pitched bark, before settling for wagging its very shaggy tail at him.And so Felix keeps asking himself—if he is so very muchnota dog person, then why is there currently a puppy seated across from him in his carriage?--When a stray follows Felix to Gautier territory, he has a hard time convincing Sylvain that he reallydoesn'tlike dogs. His feelings for Sylvain, however, are decidedly more complex.





	Felix Fraldarius Does Not Like Dogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perdizzion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdizzion/gifts).

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you, dearest Citra <3333 You are brave in all your endeavors, an inspiration to all your friends, and a gift to all of us who get to watch you do what you do (both through your memes and your energy)! Thank you for being my friend -- and not least, thank you for helping drag me into FE3H hell :D

Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius does not like dogs. 

If pressed, if he absolutely _ had _to admit to a fondness for any living creature on the Goddess's green earth, on pain of death, he would classify himself as a cat person. Cats are independent, and poised, and sometimes they are demons in the form of tiny fluffy furballs who will sooner rip a man's balls off than allow him to pet them. Felix appreciates that in a creature.

He doesn't like dogs, because dogs are loud and needy and annoying, and constantly hang around begging for scraps of food and attention, and they always want to _ play. _All things Felix hates.

Which is why he is not a dog person. 

He crosses his arms, and glares daggers at the other occupant of the carriage he occupies on his way to Gautier territory. 

"What are _ you _looking at?" he snaps.

His traveling companion lets out a high-pitched bark, before settling for wagging its very shaggy tail at him. 

And so Felix keeps asking himself—if he is so very much _ not _a dog person, then why is there currently a puppy seated across from him in his carriage? 

He groans and smacks a hand over his eyes, slumping down in his seat. When he peers through his fingers, the puppy is still there, stupid tongue lolling out of its stupid mouth… stupidly. It was a stray. The servants had found it scampering between the horse's hooves as they passed through town—the idiotic creature would have been trampled to death had Felix, not thinking, thrown open his carriage door for it to leap inside.

He doesn't know why he's done it. It is hardly a mutt worth saving. Its fluffy coat is so grimy that the color of it can barely be made out—although he can tell it is russet red beneath all the dirt. It is also in desperate need of a haircut, fringe (it feels ridiculous to describe a dog as having a _ fringe, _but there it is) hanging so long that it nearly obscures the gold-brown tint of its eyes. He also wonders if it might be a bit dim, with the way it just sits there, not doing anything but staring at him, happily panting and wagging its damned tail. 

It sort of reminds him of… something, but he's not sure what. Regardless, that's not why he saved it. He just wasn't thinking. Once they're stopped, he'll let it out and it can run off to wherever it pleases. 

They stop three more times on the journey and each time Felix opens his carriage door to tell the pup to get out, tries to shoo it away. Three times, it declines the offer. 

"You do understand I want nothing to do with you?" he says to it. "I don't like you."

The puppy tilts its head as though trying to make out what he's saying. 

"It would have been better if I'd let you be flattened by one of the horses," Felix mutters. 

A soft whine follows, and the ears shift to lay back against the skull. Felix glares at it in disbelief. There's no way it could have—surely it doesn't—

_ Animals just have a way of knowing what a person is feeling! _

Unbidden, Annette's voice rises in his mind. Not singing, just, parroting something she'd heard—from Marianne, if memory serves. 

"Oh, please," he mutters.

The puppy curls up on the bench across from him, tucked into a tiny ball, no longer looking at him. Felix gapes at it. 

"You can't _ guilt _ me!" he hisses. "I didn't _ let _you get flattened!"

For _ fuck's _ sake. Now he's talking to it? That does it—the dog is going out the door at the next available opportunity. 

They arrive at the Gautier estate, and he has not gotten rid of the dog. He opens the door to the carriage and _ now _the pup decides to exit, bounding out with a joyful bark at being free, as though he hadn't offered it the option multiple times. He nearly trips over it as he steps out, and straightens his cloak, hoping nobody noticed. 

"Now announcing," calls one of the Gautier heralds, as Felix rolls his eyes at the pageantry, "his Grace, Duke Fraldar—"

_ "Felix?!" _ interrupts his lordship, the most honorable Margrave Gautier, Felix's closest friend, and definite dog person. "You got a _ dog?!" _

Felix exhales through his nose. "No."

Sylvain ignores him. He darts forward, and Felix braces himself to shove his friend away—but Sylvain beelines for the _ dog _instead of him, scooping it up into the air like a proud father would heft a treasured child. 

"Then who's this little guy?" Sylvain asks. "Huh? Is Felix trying to hide you from me? What's your name?"

To Felix's disgust, the dog tries to lick Sylvain's delighted face, and Sylvain allows it.

"It doesn't have a name, because it's not _ mine,_" Felix says. Sylvain, apparently, has ascertained it's a him. Felix hadn't bothered to check. "I unfortunately found it sneaking around our caravan, and before I knew it, it'd weaseled its way along for the ride."

"Is that so?" Sylvain says. His face splits into a grin so shit-eating, Felix has a strong mind to enlist some of the horses to help him discover what it tastes like right there and then. "Well, either way, let's get inside. I thought I was excited to see you before, but now that there's two of you it's twice as exciting!" 

Sylvain shifts the puppy to hold it with one arm, wrapping the other one around Felix to yank Felix into a tight embrace. The surprised yelp Felix unleashes is intensely undignified, fueled by surprise and horror in tandem. 

"Don't hug me after you've been holding that flea-ridden beast!" 

"Don't be like that," Sylvain says. "I haven't seen you in ages!" 

Felix doesn't need to be reminded. With how painfully tedious and time consuming the process of rebuilding Faerghus _and _Fódlan simultaneously has been, they have not seen each other for weeks. He knows it's been ages—that's why he agreed to this visit in the first place.

That's why, for all his complaining, and his honest distaste at being squeezed against Sylvain's warm, broad chest only _ after _it's been covered in muddy paw prints, he doesn't pull away.

They have much official business to attend to, but sometimes, he just needs to see Sylvain's face. He can't go back to the way it was during the war, when they didn't see each other for years at a time. He'll never go back to that. 

"You're a disgrace," he tells Sylvain. "We're both going to smell like filthy dog, now."

"Then maybe," Sylvain singsongs in his ear, "now is the best time to give it a bath."

Felix does pull away at that. "You have _ got _ to be joking." 

"As much as I ever am!" Sylvain replies. That could mean _ anything. _"So, seriously, what are you going to name him?"

He doesn't remove his arm from around Felix's shoulders, and Felix is already resigned to not throwing him off as they all traipse inside.

*

As it turns out, Sylvain is not joking about the bath. 

Over the course of a few hours, Felix has gone from "not a dog person" to "soaked through and up to his elbows in soapy water while trying to bathe a boisterous mutt and _ still _ not a fucking dog person." 

How did his life come to this?

"I keep telling you not to let him squirm!" Sylvain says, laughing as the dog tries to make a break for it again. 

"And I keep telling you that I'm doing my fucking _ best!" _Felix shouts back, very much not laughing.

Right. His life came to this because he did not lose it in the war; and he hadn't lost Sylvain, either, and somehow that makes him at least four times as susceptible to any and all ridiculous ideas that might get flung his way. 

He tries to hold the pup as firmly as he can, which is easier said than done when it's just a mass of wet fur and scrabbling paws. Sylvain tries to upend a bucket of water over it to rinse it—half ends up dumped on Felix's head. 

"I'm going to kill you both," Felix says, sopping hair falling into his eyes, as Sylvain doubles over, clutching his stomach. He's laughing so hard it's coming out as wheezy squeaks. Felix is _ this _ close to shoving him into the tub. "Why are _ we _ doing this? We have servants. We have a _ country _ to organize, that should probably come first." 

Smile still stuck on his face, Sylvain comes over to his side of the tub, even though that puts him within arm's reach of Felix and his murderous intent. He's also fairly soaked, damp bangs falling into his eyes, which are amber now in the light of the fires keeping them from freezing in their wet clothes. There's soap suds on his pink nose. 

And Felix knows why he's doing something as silly as _ this, _ before duty, before country. Of course he does. 

"Faerghus can wait one evening," Sylvain says. He pushes Felix's disastrous hair out of his eyes and Felix has to avert them then, even if he can still feel the way Sylvain is smiling at him. Like that smile itself is directly responsible for making his face warm. "I think we're owed this much."

"I don't even like dogs," Felix mumbles. 

"So you keep telling me," Sylvain says, standing again and allowing Felix to breathe as his hair drops back in his face. A towel drops onto Felix's head. "I really think you're gonna have to name this one, though."

"It's not staying," Felix says again, as he starts to furiously dry his hair. 

*

The puppy tags along at Felix's feet all through dinner, and through the after dinner drink Sylvain convinced him to have, which has subsequently made him softer and warmer than usual. 

This is the only justification he can give for letting the dog follow him back to his room afterwards. He doesn't want to just let it wander around the estate, and he's too tired to bother finding somewhere to put it for the night, so—ignoring Sylvain's cooing noises about how adorable it is—he makes his way back with his extra fluffy roommate. 

He pulls loose the cord he uses to tie his hair back and is changing into his nightclothes, when he hears a frantic scratching noise. He turns to find the dog has jumped up onto his pillow. 

_ "Absolutely _ not," he says. He snaps his fingers and points at the floor. "Down. _ Down. _Dog!" 

Even he can feel how stupid it is to just call the dog "dog." In the back of his mind, a horribly familiar voice laughs, bright as a candle flame. 

_ You can't call him Dog! What are you going to name him? _

"Stop!" Felix commands, to no effect. The puppy wags its tail at him and then begins to paw at the pillow furiously again. "I am _ warning _you!" 

He doesn't know what will come of this threat, exactly, but it ceases to matter in the next moment as the pillow _ explodes _from the vigorous scratching, feathers flying everywhere. For a second, Felix and the dog freeze in place, like they're both too shocked to react.

Felix snaps first. "That is _ it!" _he shouts. "Come here!" 

The dog does not come. Felix flings himself onto the bed to grab it, but it barks manically at him and scampers away. He gives chase, scrambling after it on his hands and knees, but of_ course, _now is when it chooses to get off the bed. It darts under and he goes over, trying to cut it off. Its tail is wagging so fast he can barely see it—it clearly thinks they're playing.

"YOU LITTLE—"

"My Lordship?" The door cracks open as a servant pokes their head in. "Is everything—"

"Shut the door, _ shut the door!" _Felix bellows, but the dog has seen its chance and takes it. It squeezes through the opening, and Felix curses up a storm as he yanks the door open to follow it out, racing down the hallway after it. 

How is this happening to him? How has he been outsmarted by a single fucking ball of scruff? He is an army general, for crying out loud. Not only that, _ why _ is he in this position in the first place? _ He doesn't even like dogs. _

"Dog, if you don't stop right this instant—" he shouts, "I swear, I will feed you to a wyvern—_AAGH!" _

He practically swallows his own tongue when he barrels right into someone emerging from one of the rooms—they collide with a head-rattling slam and for a second he's worried he may have just broken some poor fool's ribs. He is, after all, more sturdy than the average non-Crest bearer. 

Fortunately, after a second of disorientation, he sees that the person he's slammed into at top speed is Sylvain, which explains why he didn't send them both sprawling.

Unfortunately, Felix realizes the second after that, he has bigger problems to think about. 

Doors up and down the hallway are beginning to open as more people try to see what's causing all the commotion. Noblemen and military leaders all start to sleepily stick their nosy heads out of their doors, and any moment they will bear witness to Duke Fraldarius standing in the middle of the hall in Margrave Gautier's arms, his hair cascading down about his shoulders, and wearing only a nightshirt, a pair of thick woolen socks, and very little else. 

"Felix…" Sylvain says, voice slightly choked.

Felix swallows, and because his life is already a mess, says, "Help."

Sylvain practically throws him into his room. He makes a weird… kissy noise that causes Felix's face to get even hotter than it already is, but then the pup skitters in between their feet and he realizes Sylvain was just calling it. He doesn't know what's more infuriating, his reaction to that sound, or the fact that the dog actually listens to Sylvain. 

They're left to stare at each other in the low light of the little lamp burning by Sylvain's bed. Sylvain breaks the silence first.

"Did you know you're covered in feathers?" he asks. 

"I don't want to talk about it," Felix replies. 

"You know, usually when people turn up in my room half-naked in the dead of night," Sylvain deadpans, "they're a bit happier to see me." 

"I'm—" Felix splutters. "I'm not half-naked!" He is.

"Pantsless, then," Sylvain corrects. He seems unable to hold his grin back, though he does make an uncharacteristic attempt to be gallant for _ once _in his life, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth in an effort to hide it. 

It makes everything somehow worse. The fact that Felix is so obviously embarrassed that even _ Sylvain _can't mock him for it. The only thing stopping him from murdering Sylvain with his bare hands so that there are zero witnesses to his humiliation is the thought that he'd probably be the one to have to take over the Margrave territory if he did, and like hell he's willing to deal with that.

"Sylvain…" 

"I'm not _ saying _anything!" 

"I will run you _ through." _

Sylvain's eyes drop lower, gaze sweeping over his barely dressed body. "I don't see a sword on you…" he says, destroying any illusions Felix might have had about his gallantry.

Felix makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a very pathetic squeak, and slams his face into the crook of his arm as though that can stifle the noise he just let out. He's surely more red than he's ever been in his life.

"I'm _ sorry,_" Sylvain says, laughter finally bursting free, "but _ Goddess, _do you have any idea how sweet you're being right now?" 

There is no response Felix can make to this. None. He just stares in terrified silence before covering his face fully with both hands, because he cannot let Sylvain see him right now, he'll die. 

"Oh, Felix," Sylvain says. It sounds like he's wavering between being delighted and pained, but Felix can't tell, because he is still not looking at him. "You're really just making it worse."

"I'm not being _ sweet,_" Felix says, and to his utter horror, his voice comes out wobbly like he's about to—_no, _ he refuses, he doesn't do that anymore. Especially not over _ Sylvain. _He isn't sweet, he is running around a castle past midnight with no pants on while shouting death threats at a puppy. Sylvain needs to get his head checked by a healer.

"You are," Sylvain says softly. Felix can feel him step closer, knows he has when the air shifts before him, gets warmer, and then there are hands on his arms, rubbing up to his shoulders, and it's soothing even though Sylvain is making fun of him. Those same hands skim up the back of his neck before settling in his hair, lightly stroking through it, and Felix shudders from his head all the way down to his toes. "You really, really are." 

Felix looks at him.

Sylvain is staring down at him, eyes wide, bangs hanging in his warm brown eyes, still messy and unstyled after the earlier chaos with the bath. There's a small smile on his face that Felix cannot describe as anything other than _ silly—_not silly in the way he smiles at all the people who don't know him, but silly in the way he only ever shows to Felix, who knows him all too well. He looks stupid and soft and _ fond _ of Felix for _ no fucking reason at all. _

"What are you _ looking _at?" he whispers.

Sylvain tilts his head to the side. "You." 

_ Ah, _ Felix thinks, as it all connects, _ that's who the dog reminds me of. _

He lets his hands fall away as he rises up on his toes and presses his lips to Sylvain's dumb, smiling mouth. 

Sylvain sucks in about half a breath before his hands in Felix's hair tighten, cradling the back of his head as he surges forward, kissing him back so fiercely that Felix would lose his balance if he weren't already being held so securely. He wraps his arms around Sylvain's neck and Sylvain pulls him even closer—which really proves exactly how fond he is, because anybody who lets Felix get that kind of grip on them without fear that their windpipe is about to be crushed must really trust him. That, or Sylvain is just as stupid as Felix has always feared. Whatever, he doesn't care. 

"The dog is _ your _fault," Felix growls against his lips. 

"Huh?" Sylvain mumbles distractedly. 

"I'm fairly sure—" Felix says, between breaths of air, "that I only—didn't let the dog die because it reminds me of you—"

Sylvain finally leans back to look at him. "Is this you _ confessing?" _

He is. And he knows he should do it properly, because of what it means to Sylvain, to have his best friend wake up and finally admit it. But he also knows Sylvain understands completely. Felix stares up at him.

"Take it or leave it."

"Oh, I'll definitely take it," Sylvain says right away, perfectly cheerful. "Speaking of the dog—not that I'm not eager to get back to the kissing, but while I've got your undivided attention—what, um, what _ is _going on with all the feathers?" 

"Oh, that," Felix says. He is far less interested in this story than kissing Sylvain. Ostensibly because _ kissing Sylvain, _holy shit, he's going to need to process this later; but also because the actual story is extremely stupid. "The, uh, the pillows. It ripped them to shreds." 

Sylvain chuckles. "You're going to have to train him."

"It's not my dog," Felix says. Suddenly, a thought strikes him. "Anyway, that'll need to be cleaned up, but I don't want to wake anyone now, and so, since I don't have any pillows—maybe, for just tonight, I could… we should… share?" 

_ "Felix,_" Sylvain gasps, "are you _ propositioning _ me?" 

"I _ will _stab you."

"Hmmm," Sylvain hums, his hands already creeping lower. "Still no sword, though. Perhaps if I look closer…"

Felix stomps on his foot. Sylvain yelps and then picks him up to sling him over one shoulder, and since Felix's bed is no longer serviceable he doesn't fight all that much as Sylvain carries him to his own. 

The puppy falls asleep at the end of the bed curled up near their feet, and Felix finds he does not have the heart to make it sleep elsewhere.

*

Sylvain will not stop carrying the dog around like it is his own firstborn son, and Felix has just accepted that this is his life now. Sylvain is even holding it as they stand at the front of the estate, waiting for the arrival of the king and his retinue.

"Put it down," Felix instructs.

"His paws will get cold," Sylvain protests.

"What do you think it did _ before _you came along? It's not like it could afford mittens." 

"Oh, _ mittens! _We've got to get him mittens!" 

"There is no 'we' in this," Felix says. "Stop spoiling it." 

He is saved by the clattering of hooves and stomping of feet that signals the entrance of Dimitri's men as they all filter into the courtyard. Many of the soldiers from either house know each other and greetings are shouted back and forth. It gives Felix something to look at as he turns away from Sylvain. He refuses to let Sylvain see the way he can barely keep from smiling. Because they are a "we," now, aren't they? Even more than before. 

The pup is staring at him, again. Begrudgingly, he gives it a vigorous scratch behind the ears, which makes it very happy. Felix scowls.

Sylvain kisses the top of the dog's head. "He deserves to be spoiled."

"Then _ you _keep it." 

"I can't!" Sylvain cries. "He needs to stay with you so that he can remind you of me, always!" 

"I am reminded of you already too much as it is," Felix says. He realizes too late what he's admitted, as a sly grin creeps over Sylvain's face.

"Does that mean you think of me often?" he asks. When Felix settles for turning bright pink in favor of giving him an actual answer (it's enough of one, anyway), he leans closer. "Glad to hear it." 

He tugs Felix into a kiss, just as Dimitri emerges from the royal carriage, Dedue in tow. Sylvain _ planned _that, Felix can tell from the way he's smirking into the kiss. Saints help him, now on top of everything else he's going to have to deal with that enormous oaf having to congratulate them twenty ways to Sunday. He's going to punch Sylvain.

"Felix? Sylvain?" he hears Dimitri say in shock. Felix pulls away from Sylvain, ready to cut him off before he starts to build steam, but— "You got a _ dog?" _

Felix's mouth falls open.

"Yeah!" Sylvain shouts. "He's Felix's!" 

Dimitri hurries to meet them, his cloak billowing behind him in his haste. _ "Felix _ got a _ dog?" _

_ "That's _what you're surprised about?!" Felix demands. 

Dimitri looks at him blankly. He turns, to where Dedue is standing in the same place as always, at his right shoulder, and looks at him blankly as well. Dedue remains impassive. Dimitri turns back to Felix. 

"What else would I be surprised about?" 

Then he smiles, and Felix _ knows _he knows, and he has to debate the pros and cons of punching the king in front of all his men, as well. 

Seemingly oblivious to Felix's wrath, Dimitri holds out his arms for Sylvain to dutifully hand off the dog—_Felix's _ dog—to him. The king cradles him very carefully, mindful as ever of his strength.

"Look at him," Dimitri says, as the puppy tries to bite his chin, "he's such a good boy!"

"He is a very good boy," Dedue says. 

"I _ know, _right?" Sylvain agrees, proud as anything. Felix squints at him in disbelief. 

"He reminds me of you, Sylvain," the king says next. Felix squints at _ him _in disbelief. "What's his name?" 

They both turn to Felix expectantly, and he tosses his hands in the air. 

All his friends are idiots.

"He doesn't have one yet," he says. "I'll think it over."

Felix is also an idiot. But at least, he thinks, as Sylvain drapes both arms over his shoulders while they watch His Majesty and Dedue play with his new puppy—he's in good company. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am utterly fucking obsessed with this game, despite never having played it. I have spent countless hours watching youtube videos of it. Dimitri is in my thoughts at all times.........
> 
> ANYWAY THANK YOU to Mei (who has played it, and whose fault it is that I'm in this mess) so much for reading this over for me and making sure nothing is wildly out of place <3
> 
> Also, before anyone mentions it, yes -- I do realize how close the title of this fic is to my catboy!Todoroki fic. 
> 
> I'm on Twitter at [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) (nsfw sometimes)! Writing updates [@ Esselle_on_AO3](https://twitter.com/Esselle_on_AO3)! I also have a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/Esselle_hq)!


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